When Ben sneaked a quick glance at their father, Grace smiled. She’d intended the tease as a diversion, but it ended up as a dig. Her brother had admitted a week ago that he needed to escape from the office occasionally. “For my peace of mind,” he’d said.
A month after his own return to the Cove to help out after Charles’s surgery, Ben had pressured Grace to do her part supporting the family. She’d resisted at first. Not because of the job—leaving the reference library in Augusta had been on her mind for some time—but returning to Lighthouse Cove was an emotional obstacle and one she’d struggled with since she’d left for college fourteen years ago.
Three long years after that summer. Grace’s eyes welled up and she turned to gaze out the window, silently swearing. This is why I shouldn’t have come home. No matter how hard I try, something or someone will trigger that memory. It won’t ever go away until I lay it to rest.
“Everything okay, honey?”
“Sure,” Grace murmured, waiting until her eyes cleared before facing her mother.
“Don’t worry about the store,” her mother whispered. “Businesses have these slumps. We’ve been through it ourselves.”
Unlike her mother, Grace was skeptical about better days ahead, but gave her a reassuring smile. Evelyn Winters—along with Henry—was the bonus in coming home. Her mother’s sweet personality had often been a buffer against her father’s unbending sternness and Grace hoped never to have to shake that faith in her.
The trip to Portland gave her a chance to contemplate Drew’s invite to dinner. Was it simply a thank-you for the afternoon tour but if so, wouldn’t he have treated Henry? Or was it another attempt at easing the blow of a refusal—a repeat of the drink invitation last night? She hadn’t seriously believed a couple hours of sightseeing would change his mind, but she’d meant to pique his interest in the community.
If she could persuade him to stay through the July Fourth weekend at Henry’s, she could show him the rest of the Cove and introduce him to more old-timers who had memories of the days when the lighthouse was functional. Even her peers remembered when the beacon switched on at dusk, shooting light past the harbor onto the dark waters of Casco Bay. But Grace would never ask any of her former friends to talk about the lighthouse. She couldn’t trust what they might say.
By the time they reached the specialist’s office, Grace had come up with a rough plan for the next two days if Drew Spencer agreed to stay on. And when they were leaving Portland an hour later—stopping briefly at a drugstore for her father’s prescription—she’d decided to accept the dinner invitation in order to lay her ideas out on the table. Sometime between now and then she’d have to summon enough enthusiasm to make her pitch convincing.
No one spoke on the way back to the Cove. Charles’s doctor had been firm in his caution against a return to work and blunt with his prognosis. You’ve got at least another ten years or more if you follow instructions. Exercise, diet and no stress.
Right, Grace had thought. The first two were easy because her parents had always followed a healthy lifestyle, but Charles’s condition was genetic—his father and grandfather had both died of heart attacks at fairly young ages. The single important factor was stress. Luring her father away from the family business, even now that Ben was home to temporarily take over, would be the biggest challenge.
When Ben pulled up in front of the store, Grace saw that Henry had already locked up. She didn’t blame him. It was almost five thirty and although she stayed open until six on Thursdays, Grace figured he must have been tired after the sightseeing. She’d have to wait until tomorrow to find out more about the afternoon.
“I see the place is closed already,” Charles muttered.
Grace stifled a sigh. Fortunately, her mother saved her from having to reply.
“Well, if you’re free, dear, why don’t you come for dinner? I’ve got a pot roast in the slow cooker and it’s more than enough for the four of us.”
Grace saw her brother wink as he caught her eye in the rearview mirror. Her mother’s pot roast was legendary for its dryness.
“Thanks, Mom, but I’ve other plans for dinner tonight.”
That got Ben’s full attention. “Anyone I know?” He met her gaze again in the rearview mirror.
“Frankly, dear brother, I stopped having to answer that question from you when you left the Cove for college.”
He flushed and looked away. Grace felt a tiny bit of satisfaction as she climbed out of the car. They’d never talked about that summer seventeen years ago, a time when Grace wanted desperately to confide in her older brother. But when he went off to college, he left the Cove for good until six months ago. He’d also left her behind to deal with the pain, the confusion and the whispers. And the guilt.
As soon as the car pulled away, she dug her cell phone out of her purse.
CHAPTER SIX
HIS QUALMS THAT he was making a huge mistake vanished the instant Drew saw Grace Winters crossing the hotel lobby. She was wearing a filmy turquoise dress that billowed in her wake, as if she were floating across the marble floor. She waved when he stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in, waiting for her ten minutes earlier than they’d arranged. The dinner invite had been impulsive, but she and Henry had gone to some trouble to give him a sense of life in Lighthouse Cove. The truth was though, he was reluctant to leave town without seeing her again.
“I hope I’m not late,” she said as she drew closer.
“On the dot. I...uh... I came down a bit earlier to check out before the morning.”
Her bright smile wobbled a bit but thankfully she didn’t start in on the questioning. Drew’s intention was to enjoy a friendly dinner with her and outline his thoughts about the lighthouse. He’d had time after leaving Henry to hike back to the site to confirm his thinking. The return walk along the shore and the marina, watching the gulls wheeling overhead and diving for scraps littered on the footpath, had filled him with a sense of peace but also purpose. He just hoped she’d view his decision as a good compromise for everyone.
“This was a surprise,” she said, “but a very pleasant one.”
“I wanted to thank you for organizing my walkabout with Henry.”
“Maybe he should be here, then, instead of me.”
Her tinkling laugh seemed to bounce off the walls. It was the first spontaneous happiness Drew had seen in her. “No, I’m taking the right person out,” he said. “But I did get a recommendation from Henry.”
“Oh?”
“A place on the waterfront. He said it’s casual, but the food is excellent.”
“The Daily Catch?”
“You know it, of course. I suppose there are a limited number of places in a town this size.”
“True enough but I haven’t been to the Catch in years.”
“So it’s an old establishment?”
“Owned and operated by the same family for a couple of generations. In fact, I went to school with the current chef, who’s also one of the owners.”
“Sounds like a good choice, then. Shall we go?” He placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her around the grouping of armchairs. His palm fit nicely into the small curve at the base of her spine, as if it belonged there. He was thinking how he liked that almost protecting sensation, when a voice behind them brought Grace to an abrupt stop.
“Gracie?”
The woman Drew had encountered the day before was heading their way. The warm smile she aimed at Grace shifted to confusion when she recognized Drew.
“Oh hi, Suzanna.”
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” the other woman said. “Guess that means we’ve both been busy and a good thing for us, right?”
Drew was curious about the hint of nervousness in the other woman’s light laugh and even more, at the unyielding posture in Grace. Weren’t these two cousins?
; “I guess so,” replied Grace.
Suzanna turned her attention to Drew. “I see you’re still with us, Mr.—”
“Spencer. Yes, but I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
He waited for Grace to offer some explanation about him but when none came, he said, “Guess we should get going.”
Grace didn’t speak until they were outside on the pavement. “I should let you know that my cousin and her family are kind of on the outs with my family. It’s a long story and if you don’t mind, I’d rather not spoil the evening.”
Light from the hotel and street reflected off the dark eyes staring up at him. Drew would have promised her anything in that moment. “Of course,” he said and followed her down the steps onto the boardwalk that paralleled the marina.
When they entered The Daily Catch, tucked into an alcove on the boardwalk, Drew knew he’d found a treasure. It was a small wood-framed building—some would call it a shack, he thought—with a single large room strewn with mismatched tables and chairs, checked tablecloths and walls decorated with fishing nets, oars and the occasional lobster trap. At first glance it might have appeared kitschy, but Drew saw the artifacts were genuine. Candles shoved into empty wine bottles provided the main lighting but toward the rear, Drew could see a modern galley-style kitchen, its stainless-steel appliances and counters gleaming under fluorescent lights. Two men and a woman in white chef jackets were at work, bent over plates and pots.
A young woman greeted them and escorted them to a corner table after plunking down two pieces of paper no larger than a shopping list.
“Sandy will be right with you to take your drink order,” she said as she returned to the door to welcome more people.
Drew glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him and the three or four lines of writing on it. “This is the menu?”
“The daily catch?” she prompted, smiling.
He got her point. “Ah, yes. But tell me, considering the small number of fishing trawlers I’ve seen here, where does this daily catch come from?”
“Nowadays the catch is trucked in from Portland, but it will be fresh, caught this morning and shipped on ice directly here. When I was growing up though, everything here was caught in the waters of Casco Bay, way out there.” She gestured with her head toward the open windows and the gentle swishing of seawater against the break wall.
“Has the town changed much since you were a kid?”
“Well, it’s grown a lot. Spread out to the highway as you probably noticed on your way in. Newer stores have replaced old favorites and some people in town, like Henry, regret that but—” she shrugged “—change is inevitable. Isn’t that what they say? The only predictable thing in life is change?”
“Personally, I’d side with Henry on that issue. I accept that change is inevitable as you say, but is it always for the good? That’s the part of change I have a problem with.”
“You love old things?”
He hesitated, unable to tell from her voice where her own preferences lay. But what did it matter? he asked himself. This is a onetime dinner with a woman I know I’m going to disappoint. That was definitely inevitable. “Some things,” he said.
“Like lighthouses?”
There was a sparkle in her eyes that Drew knew didn’t come only from the candle. Fortunately, the arrival of their waiter to take their order saved him from tackling that topic just yet.
After a brief consultation of the wine list and Sandy’s insistence that the house special that night—the striped bass—was a must for both of them, Grace asked, “What was the highlight of your walking tour with Henry?”
Drew thought for a minute. “The town hall was pretty impressive, but I think the real highlight was Henry himself.” He smiled. “He had a story for everything we saw, and his obvious love of this town was refreshing.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, getting back to our talk about change. At first glance, you might mistakenly pigeonhole Henry as—”
“An old curmudgeon?”
She was smiling so Drew knew she thought otherwise. “Yeah. But that would be a poor assumption. He’s someone who stands up for what he believes and if that includes clutching on to the important parts of the status quo in defiance of change, well, good for him.”
The glow in her eyes made Drew grateful for the arrival of their wine and crab cake appetizer. He was beginning to realize dinner in a place like this, with a woman who looked like her, might derail his plan to discuss the lighthouse demolition. Oddly enough, that didn’t bother him.
They were waiting for their main course when a man in a white jacket approached the table. “Gracie Winters?”
She turned around and gave a huge smile. “Tommy! I heard you and your brother had taken over the place.”
“Yet you’re only showing up now, months after coming back home?”
The pink in her face and brightness in her eyes were a giveaway, Drew thought with a slight tinge of envy. This man had been—or perhaps still was—someone special.
She shrugged. “I’ve been busy, setting up a new business. You know how it is.”
“I do. Yeah, I heard you’d taken over old man Jenkins’s place. How’s that working out?”
“Slowly, slowly.”
“Tell me about it.” He looked around the room. “Things are picking up here now that summer’s finally arrived.” His eyes fell on Drew, as if noticing him for the first time.
“Oh,” she said, “um...this is Drew Spencer. Drew, Tom Nakamura. As I told you, his family has run this place forever. And how is your family, Tom? Parents okay?”
“Everyone’s okay, thanks.” He glanced at Drew again.
Waiting for further information, Drew thought, which Grace evaded providing.
Instead she asked, “Have you seen Ben yet? He’s moved back home, too.”
“I have. He came in here a couple of weeks ago for lunch. We had a great time catching up.” A clatter from the kitchen caught his attention. “Okay, best get back to work. So nice to see you, Gracie. Don’t be a stranger.” As he walked away, he turned around to say, “Dessert’s on the house.”
“The school friend?” Drew asked.
“He was actually in my brother’s class.” She smiled. “He was always around our house. I had a teenage crush on him.”
“My older brother often had girls around, too. One of the few perks of being the youngest.”
She grinned. “For sure.”
Then he added, “It must be nice to come back after a long time away and meet old friends.”
A shadow crossed her face but before Drew could follow up, Sandy brought their main courses.
Grace exclaimed, “That looks amazing.”
The fish was perfectly cooked. Drew couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten such a meal and he was content to savor every mouthful, avoiding any talk more serious than comments about the quality of the meal and some more small talk about Drew’s visit to Town Hall. There was a brief lull while plates were taken away and wine replaced by coffee while they debated whether they ought to share a dessert.
“We only have two tonight so get one of each and share them,” Sandy advised. “Besides, Tom says they’re on the house so...”
Drew caught Grace’s eye and grinned. “Half and half?”
“Definitely.”
When Sandy left to get the desserts, Grace said, “Tell me about yourself.”
“I told you I grew up on a farm in Iowa?”
She nodded.
“My parents still live there but my brother and his family run the place now. We’ve always had soybeans, rotating with corn. A few chickens. It’s not a big place but big enough to make a living.”
“Were your parents upset about you joining the Coast Guard?”
“Disappointed ra
ther than upset. Fortunately, my older brother was there to take over when the work became too much for my father.”
“It seems disappointment in a child comes with being a parent.”
Drew remembered Henry’s comment about Charles Winters—the allusion to the man’s overbearing nature—and wondered how a woman like her could possibly cause a parent any disappointment.
“Sometimes,” he said, softening his voice, “but I’m sure that feeling doesn’t last. It’s natural for people to let down their loved ones. It’s just part of the normal ups and downs of a family.”
After a long pause, she murmured, “Perhaps.”
He wanted to reach across the table and take her hand, bring back that smile of a moment ago. Her sigh also piqued his curiosity. “Henry told me you were a librarian in Augusta, before coming back here to help take care of your father. Was it difficult for you, leaving town and your family when you went to college?”
“No! It wasn’t difficult at all. I had no choice but to leave.”
Sandy’s arrival with their desserts was well-timed because Drew sensed that Grace Winters had no intention of explaining the vehemence in those last few words. After some small talk about the artistry of their desserts, the mood changed again. Drew carefully cut his chocolate cake in two exact halves and then caught Grace popping a whole strawberry into her mouth.
“Hey,” he protested. “There was only one berry on top of that—whatever it is.” He pointed with his fork to the large white blob on the plate she was eating from.
“Pavlova,” she said as she dug into it again, running her tongue along her spoon after she swallowed.
Drew couldn’t take his eyes off her—the full lips bright red from the berry, the satisfied murmur as the spoon poised over the dessert for a second mouthful.
“Strictly speaking, half of that huge strawberry was mine.”
She beamed. “Too late now.”
He wanted to reach over and dab the fleck of whipped cream in the corner of her mouth. With his finger, not his napkin. What’s happening here, Spencer? Then he told himself, Don’t question it, just enjoy it. The food, the soft glow of candlelight, the beautiful woman across the table. Life—his recent life in particular—hadn’t been this pleasant in a long time.
His Saving Grace Page 7